I may not be sure,
If you love me or not.
I can't speak that through words.
I tried to find the words within,
...
Whilom should've said it- herald,
Before we begin, only if i ever knew,
It was meant to be 'to end' out of the blue.
It might be a delicacy for you,
...
I once was loved, I used to be mattered,
I once used to be cared for-
And yes, I put my trust in, solely,
truly and honestly,
...
A guy wailing in silence, hiding his pains,
He himself acts so nice not letting
someone grasps his pains,
He's afraid of the world, to let them know
...
My feelings, whether has been said and tacit,
Whether hasn't been unlamented,
I always curved and tend it with love and patience,
I don't matter whether it is that vital to spread throughout,
...
Gradually getting a person of age is like-
Grasping the sensation of reality of life,
People and everything.
There were some people just for a moment
...
I'm scared of losing- hearing,
Might not be able to hear
the angels singing.
...
Remind yourself,
To be loved sometimes by itself-
To relive the emotions that were left behind,
To heal the unseen gashes.
...
Giacobbe Hwansa Giacobbe Hwansa is a poet and author from Longding, Arunachal Pradesh, whose literary interests are rooted in reflection, human experiences, emotions, and the enduring power of written words. Born on 17 October 2008 in Longding, Arunachal Pradesh, Giacobbe spent his formative years in the district, where he completed his secondary education at Government Higher Secondary School, Longding. He later moved to Itanagar for his senior secondary education at Mallo Tarin Government Higher Secondary School, where he pursued the Commerce stream for Classes XI and XII. His academic path later took him towards the humanities and literature. He is currently pursuing a Bachelor's degree in English Honours at Dera Natung Government College (DNGC) , Itanagar. His transition from a Commerce background to English Literature reflects his growing interest in language, literature, and creative expression. For Giacobbe, writing is more than the act of placing thoughts on paper. He considers it a way of preserving ideas, emotions, observations, and experiences so that they may continue to exist beyond the circumstances in which they were first written. He believes that while the physical traces of a writer may eventually disappear, words can continue to carry meaning across time. His writing is shaped by a reflective engagement with life and the human experience. Through poetry and creative writing, he seeks to explore thoughts and emotions while gradually developing his own literary voice. As an emerging poet and author from Arunachal Pradesh, Giacobbe is at the beginning of his literary journey. His development as a writer continues alongside his academic studies, personal experiences, and sustained engagement with literature. Underlying his approach to writing is a simple aspiration: the ink may eventually become dust, but the words should continue to live. Biography of Giacobbe hwansa Written by Mr. A Atraham (Research Scholar (RGU, Guwahati, Assam)))
The Unlamented Tears
I may not be sure,
If you love me or not.
I can't speak that through words.
I tried to find the words within,
Do I really matter to them-
Or you're too scared to speak that through!
I heard the whispers of calling upon my
name in your heart,
Should I call this a deja vu?
Or was it, you were truly whispering
through?
Oh my love,
Will we ever make amends of it?
I can't call your name before
this boisterous world,
I can't even write a letter of it.
Oh my love,
I want us to let our souls walk through
And lay together.
Oh my love,
You can't be divided nor can't be estranged,
Don't go to pluck the other roses,
Don't let the other moons shine on you.
Oh my love,
I wrote you these words through
the thread of my unlamented tears.
Losing kindness for one's actions is one of the worst steps we would ever take in our lives—just to make them feel "you've changed". Kindness is a gifted emotion not their choice. Be yourself not their slaves.
Readers are the only truest pals a writer can have even after the ink becomes dusted.
All human beings are one, Without the roots, a tree cannot survive. If the leaves fall from—dried and blew, those branches may become estranged souls.